What She Doesn't See

by Debra Webb

  “Let me go in first,” he said before she could even open the door.

  No matter that she was utterly exhausted, she held up her hands in surrender as he hurried to check the house.

  “Clear.” He stepped aside for her to come in.

  “Thanks.” With a sigh, she dropped her keys and purse near the door and headed straight for her room. “There’s a shower in the hall bath,” she called over her shoulder. “You should find everything you need.”

  In her bathroom, she closed the door and leaned against it. She was too tired to trust herself around him. She turned on the water in the tub and stripped off her clothes. She wanted to soak away the day… and the building need for the man in the other room. She slid beneath the water and closed her eyes.

  Whether it had been half an hour or forty-five minutes, a knock snapped her from that half sleep, half awake place. The idea that he was on the other side of that door and she was naked in a tub full of chilly water irritated her. “What?”

  “I ordered Chinese. Do you have an ETA on when you’re coming out of there?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him to go away and her stomach rumbled. “Fifteen minutes.”

  He said something but Alex didn’t hear it over the sloshing water as she climbed out. While the tub drained, she dried her body. As soon as her hair was dry she donned sweat pants and a tee. The food had arrived. The spicy scents wafted beneath her bedroom door. With a big breath for courage, she exited her room.

  Murphy had spread the boxes of entrees and sides on the table. While she surveyed the choices he grabbed a couple of beers from her fridge. Alex was starving. She loaded a plate with rice, chicken, and vegetables. Her mouth was watering.

  Alex curled up in her favorite chair while Murphy prepared his plate. When he’d taken a seat on the sofa, she asked. “Have you been sleeping in your car the past two nights?”

  “Three.”

  She felt a little bad about that, particularly after he’d worked so hard today. “The least I can do is offer you my extra bedroom.” He was CIA after all. She owed her cooperation to her country, right? And he was protecting her. Wasn’t he?

  “That’s not necessary, Alex. I’ll be fine in my car.”

  She stared at him as he spoke. Had she ever met a man more sexy? No. Definitely no. “Don’t be ridiculous. Second door on the right. No one’s slept there since Shannon and I had a slumber party for my birthday last year.”

  “If you insist.”

  He devoured the rice with chopsticks as if he’d been eating with them his entire life. When he licked his lips, she almost gasped.

  “Well.” She stood. “I’m beat. Goodnight. Lock up when you’re ready to call it a night.”

  She hurried to the sink and rinsed her plate. Another three seconds and she would have escaped before he joined her.

  Standing next to her, he rinsed his plate. She told herself to go but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. As if he’d heard her inner struggle, he turned to her.

  “Do I make you nervous, Alex?”

  “Of course not.” She tugged at the hem of her tee. “Why on earth would you make me nervous?”

  “I never get personally involved with any aspect of an operation. That kiss last night was an anomaly.”

  Alex laughed. She wished it sounded a bit more natural. “I offered you my spare bedroom, Murphy, not my body.”

  He moved closer. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

  He leaned down slowly, giving her time to dodge but she didn’t move.

  Her heart stumbled as his lips brushed hers. He tasted her bottom lip, making her tremble. He touched her cheek with his fingers, trailed those blunt tips along her jawline as he teased her lips with his tongue.

  By the time he kissed her, she was breathless and weak-kneed.

  Then he drew away. “Goodnight.”

  She grabbed at the counter to stay vertical as he walked away.

  If his goal was to keep her off balance, he was doing one hell of a good job.

  Chapter 19

  Saturday, July 26

  Alex woke the next morning to the immediate realization that something was wrong.

  There was an unfamiliar odor in the air.

  There was sound, which she slowly recognized as a television news channel.

  She threw back the covers and sat up.

  Not only had she awakened to odd goings-on in her home. She’d dreamed about sex. With him. Hot, wild sex.

  They’d kissed. Twice. She groaned and climbed out of bed. She padded down the hall and through the living room. He was in the kitchen—beyond that door, cooking or something. She wasn’t ready for that side of Wyatt Murphy. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for anything other than the tense control freak she’d come to know him as. Even his kiss had been controlled.

  She hurried to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Fifteen minutes later she was presentable in jeans and a tank. Buying more time, she made her bed. When she entered the kitchen, he was propped against the counter drinking a cup of coffee.

  She stopped short of her destination, the coffeemaker. Where was the jacket? The tie? The top three buttons of his shirt were even open.

  Blinking furiously, she growled a good morning and darted around him to get herself a cup of coffee.

  “I borrowed bacon and eggs from your mother.”

  Alex almost spilled the coffee she was pouring. “You went up to my mother’s?” Oh hell. Now Marg would grill her about him spending the night. Letting Murphy stay in the house had quite possibly been a huge mistake. The only person who knew about their arrangement was Shannon.

  “I did,” Murphy said in answer to her question. “She was on her way out to a meeting.” He jerked his head toward the fridge. “There’s fresh orange juice, too. She squeezed it herself.”

  Marg? Squeezing orange juice? She didn’t even like orange juice. And since when did she stock bacon and eggs? Maybe her decision to join AA was the first step toward major changes in her life. Go Marg!

  Once Alex got over the initial shock, she had to admit she was starved. She couldn’t pretend disinterest. Silently, they prepared their plates and sat at the table. The quiet continued, other than the crunching of bacon and scrape of silverware across stoneware.

  Alex refused to consider how this CIA man, this uptight hard-ass could behave so domestically. Not to mention, how he could so easily turn her knees to jelly with nothing more than a kiss. She didn’t want to know that he could cook. She didn’t want to see him without the trappings of his day job. She wanted to button his shirt.

  Her gaze kept drifting to those nice lips. Whenever he licked them, she had to restrain the need to lick her own hungrily. He was so proper, so controlled that watching his tongue glide over his bottom lip was incredibly intimate.

  She liked his fingers, too. Long, blunt-tipped. The memory of how they’d felt on her skin had heat stirring her blood. His sleeves were rolled up and his forearms were well muscled. He would be so strong.

  Her throat felt dry and breathing was difficult. She hadn’t had a reaction this powerful to a man in a very long time. She stood, unable to bear another second. “That was great. Thanks.” She moved to the sink with her dishes.

  Unfortunately he did the same.

  Her heart executed a strange little maneuver when she got a whiff of him. How could a guy who’d cooked a greasy meal smell that damned good? It just wasn’t right.

  “You know my being here is about the mission, right?”

  She couldn’t help herself, she had to look up at him. He was standing so close. The scent of him... the pull of his proximity and those eyes—intense, watchful. The whole package made her weak. No matter what he said, she recognized that he was as attracted to her as she was to him. Whoever he was trying to convince, it wasn’t working.

  “Yeah, I know,” she managed in response.

  He nodded and for one fleeting instant his gaze dropped to her lips. Her breath lo
cked in her lungs and she had to refrain from pressing her palms against his chest, just to see if his heart was pounding as hard as hers was.

  How could he cast such a spell so quickly and seemingly effortlessly?

  “Thanks again… for breakfast.” Her voice sounded breathless.

  “Thank you,” he countered, that watchful gaze studying every feature of her face. “Sleeping in your guestroom was far more comfortable than in my car.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  What now? This was the first Saturday in weeks that she didn’t have to go to work. There was no way she would survive the day cooped up in this house with Murphy.

  She had to put some distance between them. Instead of offering to do the dishes, she strolled over to the front window and stared out at the morning. Across the room, dishes clinked and silverware rattled as he cleaned up. Maybe he’d needed to distract himself as well.

  Unable to resist, she dared to look over at him. How could a man doing dishes look so incredibly sexy? Perfect. Right down to the very last detail.

  As if sensing she was watching him, he glanced back.

  She jumped. “Is that really your car or just part of the cover?” She blinked at the absurdity of her question. It was the only thing she could think to say. She was standing at the window and the car was right there in her driveway.

  “It’s mine.”

  Her tension eased and she was able to breathe again. “Nice.”

  He turned back to the sink, but continued, “My work is dangerous. The way I see it, why not enjoy life? It could end tomorrow.” He shrugged. “I live for today.”

  She had basically the same motto. Life was short. Live it like you mean it.

  Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help staring at him as he dried his hands. Damn he was handsome. But not the type a smart woman got involved with.

  When had she turned so dumb?

  “What you see is what you get, Alex. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  She tried to think of a witty comeback but wit escaped her this morning. He walked toward her and her pulse reacted. She told herself to look away, but she simply couldn’t. The way he moved was… fascinating. Slow, deliberate, unbelievably sexy. His words filtered through the lust and she wondered if he’d meant the statement as a warning or as an invitation.

  When he stopped only a couple of feet away, she decided it was time she knew more about him. Anything to break the tension and maybe even to discover something she disliked. “You married, Murphy?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been married?”

  “No.”

  “Kids?”

  “No.”

  Well, damn.

  “Brothers?”

  “No.”

  Alex pushed a handful of hair behind her ear. “Sisters?”

  “No.”

  If he said no to her next question—

  “My parents live in Iowa,” he said before she could ask. “I’m an only child and I’ve never had time to give a long-term relationship the attention it needed.”

  “So you steer away from commitment?” Interesting. They had something in common.

  “Relationships are complicated. I don’t need additional complications in my life.”

  She relaxed for the first time since waking up. “I have to agree.” She hadn’t really planned to make that confession out loud, but there it was.

  Murphy leaned in her direction. Only a little. She might not have even noticed if she hadn’t been staring so intently at him.

  “I don’t get personally involved.”

  Alex laughed softly. “Don’t flatter yourself, Murphy. I was making conversation not trying to get to know you better.”

  When he said nothing, she added, “And I invited you to sleep inside my house last night because I felt sorry for you.” She laughed, the sound a little strained. “Just because I let you kiss me a couple of times doesn’t mean I have any interest whatsoever in getting involved with you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  His words fanned the flames already raging inside her. She had to head this off now.

  “I should…” She gestured toward her bedroom. “Get my bag…” What did she say next? How could she think with him staring at her so intently? The urge to grab him by the shirtfront and pull him closer was a palpable need. “I have things to do.”

  When she would have moved away from him, long, powerful fingers curled around her wrist. She turned to face him, knowing it was a mistake of monumental proportion and, yet she was helpless to do otherwise. The same fire burning her up simmered in his eyes.

  Damn him. “I’m not having sex with you, Murphy.”

  “I didn’t ask you to have sex with me.” His gaze held hers so intimately she ached with the intensity of it.

  “Yes, you did.” Saying the words wasn’t necessary. She saw the want in his eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was a mistake.”

  One he’d made twice. “Whatever you say.”

  He released her and let her walk away. She would have been home free if she had just walked straight into her bedroom without looking back. But she hadn’t.

  He stood there watching her. His fierce control had slipped a little more. He looked almost... vulnerable.

  Before she could guess his next move, he was right in front of her and diving both hands into her hair. Her brain betrayed her, left her floundering for an appropriate response.

  He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Not the fast and furious way he had before. He took his time, lingered, his mouth devouring hers infinitely slowly. She told herself not to move—not to touch him—but she couldn’t resist. She flattened her palms against his chest, allowed them to glide over that hard terrain.

  Without breaking the kiss, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. She told herself to stop this before it was too late, but the idea was like giving up breathing. Impossible. She reached for the buttons of his shirt, her fingers fumbling in their haste.

  He lowered her feet to the floor. She tugged his shirt from his trousers and peeled it off him. For a moment she could only touch him. Her greedy hands moved over the smooth skin stretched tight over hard muscle. His fingers found their way to the hem of her tank and tugged it up and over her head. He sucked in a harsh breath as he traced the lacy fabric of her black bra. She wanted it off… she wanted his hands on her breasts.

  As if he’d read her mind, he unfastened the hooks and lifted the bra away from her. His palms curved over her breasts and desire tightened inside her. She arched into his touch. He leaned down and tasted one taut nipple. She cried out. His hands were suddenly all over her. She unfastened his fly and pushed his trousers and underwear off his lean hips. His thick arousal nudged her belly. She shivered. Her hands slid downward, tracing his hips and that tantalizing vee until she encircled his length. He groaned.

  As if her intimate touch had been the last straw, he ushered her onto the bed, shucked his trousers, and then tugged off her jeans. He took his time sliding her panties down her legs. He kissed her ankle, lavished the arch of her foot with his tongue. By the time he climbed onto the bed with her, she was trembling with need. With her last rational thought she reached into the top drawer of her bedside table and fumbled for a condom. He took it from her, ripped open the foil package, and stretched the slick latex into place.

  His blue eyes locked with hers as he came down on top of her. He guided himself into that wet, aching place between her thighs. She entwined her legs with his and lifted her hips to meet his thrust. He pushed fully inside her and she came.

  He held still, watching her fall apart. When those sweet waves of completion had subsided, he finally moved. She couldn’t stop touching him. She wanted to explore every inch of him. He made her come again before withdrawing and kissing his way down her body. He used every delicious trick in the book to pleasure her and her body hummed with the magic of his touch.

  When she tried to pull him ba
ck to her once more, needing him inside her, he trapped her hands in his. “Not yet,” he murmured.

  He drove her mad with nothing more than his lips and his amazing tongue until she thought she would lose her mind. Then he filled her once more and it was her turn to watch him come undone.

  Alex wasn’t sure how much time had passed. All she knew was that she never wanted to move. The feel of him spooned against her made her want to stay like this forever. Mr. Control had known exactly how to make her lose control. Having him lay with her like this when she’d expected him to make a hasty retreat, broke down her defenses a little more. All these years she had sworn she loved being single, that she refused to have her life measured by whether or not she was part of a pair.

  She had been lying to herself.

  He raised up on one elbow and left a sweet kiss on her shoulder. “I should shower and get dressed.”

  She smiled, wishing the moment didn’t have to end. Just watching him walk away made her weak with need.

  Do not fall for this guy, Alex. He would be gone when this was over.

  Why on earth did her heart want to take a risk on a guy like Wyatt Murphy?

  Because there was no one else on earth like him, she was certain. He made her want… more.

  The sound of the water running in the shower prompted her to get up. She grabbed a robe and started to shoulder into it but hesitated. A wicked grin slid across her lips. She strolled out of her room, dragging the robe behind her. Like she figured, he’d left the bathroom door open.

  Why not join him? If she never saw him again after this was over, she might as well enjoy every minute.

  A knock at the front door derailed her fantasy. She took one last look at his fine backside and sighed. “Maybe later.”

  Dragging on her robe, she hurried to the door as a second knock echoed. She reached for the door but stopped herself. She should be sure who was out there before—

  Another knock, this one harder. The sound made her jump. She leaned forward and checked the security peephole.

  Marg’s face was all she saw at first. Her mother looked hurt… or terrified. Then Alex saw the muzzle of the gun jammed against her temple.